


The Graveyard on 56th

by piistachiiooss



Series: Sanders Sides Oneshots [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Character Turned Into a Ghost, Cute, Fluff, Halloween, How Do I Tag, I'm new to this, M/M, moxiety - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:04:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piistachiiooss/pseuds/piistachiiooss
Summary: The Graveyard on 56th. Patton Lane is a fairly simple guy. Someday he wants to settle down and start a family. He thought he had found that in his current lover, but was sadly mistaken when his best friend informs them of their affair. To clear his mind Patton goes for a drive, what he finds on the drive, is something no one would believe.





	The Graveyard on 56th

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not good at summaries tbh, uh, but this is a little Oneshot that I finished a couple days ago. People on Amino read it first. It's Moxiety; don't like it, then please find somewhere else to state "I don't ship it, but this is cute!" okay? thanks  
> I appreciate constructive criticism <3

 

At Midnight, most people would be sleeping. Allowing their bodies to relax and prepare for the next day. It's rare to hear even the hum of a car gliding down the road at such an hour. Even rarer in October, the brilliant month of brisk air, candy, even death, despite the morbid thoughts it puts in your mind. Give it some thought, though... How often do you hear the backstory of a monster... Not include death, one way or another...?

Exactly.

Now while October was the worst month to choose to go for a drive at 12 am, there was a lone silver Kia, drifting down the roads. It drove well under the speed limit, the driver just wanting to empty his mind. After the day he's had, it was no surprise that he couldn't sleep. That he'd rather drive slowly through Gainsville over sitting and rotting in his 2 bedroom apartment.

One of his closest friends had just given him the most remarkable piece of information. Something that he'd never forget. That he was gullible; Naive and so out of tune. So far in the clouds, that he couldn't see the obvious red flags. So many restless nights...

Why did he torture himself like this?

Our Driver's eyes land on the graveyard just up the street, as an odd fog fills the area. Despite the eerie quiet of the night and the sour taste at the back of his throat, he swerves to the curb. His seatbelt unlocks with a click and the lights in the car flash on as he pushes open the door. Gingerly, his fingers grasp the keys and a flashlight, his gaze never moving from the graveyard.

You may be asking yourself; why our poor driver would want to enter a graveyard with his heart broken and the moon at its highest peak. Well, it's October, perhaps he's looking to talk to zombies.

Hooking the keys to his pants, he throws the car door closed. The beeps from the car, signaling that it was now locked, echoed off of the buildings across the street. Glaring up at the sky, he wondered where the rain had gone, the quiet of the lone road, leaving a cold chill on the base of his spin. Adjusting his Warby Parkers, he flipped the switch on the flashlight only for the light to flicker weakly.

How odd. Did it need new batteries?

Slapping it twice against the palm of his hand, the light flashed on, a small yelp erupting out of his chest. And he turned, nervously, to make sure not a soul had seen or heard him make such an embarrassing noise.

The air grows cold as he steps into the graveyard, goosebumps perking up on the surface of his skin. The solid beam of his flashlight cut through the darkness, running over dead patches of grass and tombstones that littered the grounds. It wasn't too large of a place, but much too small. He could count the number of tombstones in the area in one sitting, he guessed, stopping in front of a singular headstone.

It was strange. It had no dates, no epitaph. Only a name.

Crouching down, he reaches out with his free hand, dusting off the crooked headstone.

"Virgil,"

Did no one care to mourn this poor soul? How long had he been dead? Was there anyone alive to even remember him, let alone come here to bring him a bouquet-

"Wh-What are you doing? Stop touching that!"

Our protagonist lets out a shriek, his flashlight flying out of his hand as he tumbled backward. With the flashlight, his glasses also fell, leaving him blind and oblivious to the cold stranger that stood staring down at him with pity. Huffing a breath, he snatches the glasses from the ground, throwing them at the shivering mess of a man on the ground.

Sliding them onto his nose, he glances up, blinking rapidly as to quickly become reaccustomed to them. Standing above him is a pale figure, he seemed to also be staring at the headstone, a look of rejection and sadness riddled on his features.

He looked quite alive, but his nearly white skin said otherwise. As well as the missing limbs one would need for standing, walking, and jumping.

Let's call them... Sad Sap and Pale.

Sad Sap stands clumsily to his feet, dusting himself off, his breaths loud and obnoxious as he tried to come to terms with his current situation. Pale turns again to glare at the shivering mess, Sad Sap squeaking in reply.

Swallowing, he gestures to Pale. "A-Are you-"

"Doesn't matter what I am. I don't know why you can see me, but you can leave now." Well, that answered question number one. Sad Sap heaved a breath, ignoring the need to faint as Pale 'sits' in front of the lone headstone. Silence fell over the two, Sad Sap unsure of his feelings at that very moment. It was obvious that the ghost wanted to be alone, if anything, so did he. The real question was; did either of them need to be alone?

Sad Sap opened his mouth to speak only for Pale to sigh, "And... You're still here," Taking a confident step forward, Sad Sap kneeled to the ground beside the ghost.

"I-"

"Do you always run around... Just... Touching other people's things?" Pale asked sarcastically. Scoffing, Sap crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Do you always cut others off when they try to speak? It's very rude," Pale stared indifferently at the human before shrugging lightly. A soft laugh exits his system as he 'turns' to face his guest. The smile disappears almost as quickly as it was there.

"What do you want?"

"Are you Virgil?"

Pale frowned. Why did this guy care? "What?" Smiling proudly, Sap nodded.

"You are." Virgil grimaced, shaking his head. "But I didn't-" With a grin, Sap waved the statement away. "You didn't have to. I'm Patton," He grabs Virgil's chilled hand, shaking it firmly.

 

\- ☆★☆★ -

 

The two now sat side by side on a lone log in the far corner of the graveyard. According to Virgil, it was his thinking spot, where he went to ponder on his current adaptation and his past life. Patton couldn't bring himself to leave, finding a confidant in the lonely ghost. Plus, if he walked into the apartment at this time, who knew what he'd walk in on. Maybe he could live in the graveyard, buy himself a sheet and sleep on the Thinking Log.

"Does anyone... Know you're out here? At 12 am, no less?" Patton shrugged, his gaze growing dull. Looking down at the withered grass beneath his feet, he couldn't fight the overwhelming need for a hug, the angered expression of his lover flickering behind his eyeballs.

Or was it ex-lover now..?

Ex-boyfriend perhaps?

"Patton?" The smaller of the two jumped at the other's voice. He sent a glance to Virgil, fixing his posture.

"I've never been to this side of the city-"

"So that's a no." Heaving a sigh, Patton hugged his knees to his chest. He didn't think it'd matter whether or not he told someone where he was if no one cared. He knew it was petty, but Patton wondered if Roman was enjoying his boyfriend just as much as he once did. Fake friends; there's an abundance of them.

Virgil fell silent watching Patton sit quietly in thought. The duo hadn't known each other for more than an hour, but Virgil couldn't fight the sense of familiarity he felt in the male.

The sad but reclusive way Patton acted whenever Virgil asked any social questions was all the confirmation he needed.

"What's their name?"

Patton froze, glancing at Virgil. "W-What? Who-"

"It's just--It's in your body language. You're... Hiding your heart and avoiding all social questions. I just thought-"

"Logan." Virgil combed his bangs unconsciously before answering.

"Sounds like an ass." Patton failed to stifle his laugh.

"Accurate. Play nice, though,"

Virgil shrugged, a smirk making its way onto his face. "Just sayin'.." Silence fell over them, the air growing colder. Patton's shivers were hard to ignore as his teeth chattered noisily. Patton had to know that sitting out in the cold with just a cardigan thrown around his shoulders wasn't smart, but here he was. Sitting and refusing to leave.

Like the Sad Sap he was.

Virgil glanced around, looking up and eyeing the hole in the willow tree, just beside his headstone. Flying up to it, he peered into the hole, snatching a jacket out from the inside. It was decorated with purple plaid patches, visibly worn down from years of deterioration. Thankfully the tree slowed down the process, the fabric still very thick and insulated. Floating down to Patton, he dropped the jacket across the smaller male's shoulders, pulling him to his feet.

"You need to go." Patton frowned, shaking his head slightly.

"B-But I-" Virgil patted Patton's head, shooing him away.

"You're cold and human. Go home," Pushing his arms into each sleeve, Patton stopped by the gate. He seemed to be frozen in thought, even his shivers were gone.

"I'll be back tomorrow!" He called, Virgil frowning in distaste.

 

\- ☆★☆★ -

 

"It's finally here! The Night of Frights!" Virgil gasped lurching away in fear as Patton bounded into the graveyard, a baby pumpkin in one hand and a black mass in the other. Bedazzling his face was cat make-up drawn with an almost creepy amount of accuracy. Shaking his head, Virgil sighed, eyeing a group of kids across the street. They muttered and laughed giving Patton weird looks as they approached a house.

Turning to Patton, Virgil frowned. "Chill, people are staring.." Turning and glancing at the kids, Patton hummed. Then in one swift movement, he lifted his hand up over his head and waved. "Happy Candy Hunting, kiddos!" A few of the kids smiled and thanked Patton, while others ran away, freaked out by the lonely man talking to himself on the hill.

"Yeesh..." Virgil grumbled.

Patton followed Virgil to the Thinking Log, glad to see that it was now drapped in the cotton Nightmare before Christmas blanket that Patton had given him. Patton squeaked joyously, running over and sitting comfortably on the blanket. Virgil simply floated idly above it, simply happy that Patton was happy. Once Patton had gotten comfortable, he passed the baby pumpkin to Virgil, grinning from ear to ear.

Virgil scoffed looking at it from all angles. "Uh... You give gifts on Halloween?" Patton chuckled shaking his head. "Of course not! It's nothing like Christmas, kiddo; that reminds me, can ghosts wear human clothes?" Virgil pursed his lips, shrugging softly.

"'Dunno, never tried," Patton grinned, clapping childishly.

"You're gonna try this year, cuz I'm getting you a Christmas Sweater! Well, when Christmas comes around that is," Reaching into his pocket, Patton pulled out a pair of felt cat ears. Putting them on his head, he turned to the sound of Virgil grunting.

"I was wondering where the rest of your costume was," Patton smiled, clawing in Virgil's direction with his right hand. Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced at the mass in Patton's lap. He nodded at it cocking an eyebrow.

"What's that, Pat?" Patton grinned at the rhyme, picking it up and revealing Virgil's jacket, rejuvenated and resewn. It was as good as new and despite Patton's personality, Virgil was surprised that he would go to such lengths just to fix it. Virgil shook his head, reaching out and taking the hoodie into his hands.

"Why--"

"It's not Christmas, I know, but Halloween is your favorite holiday! I figured I'd do something for the occasion." Virgil huffed a laugh, folding the jacket, he placed the pumpkin on top.

"Happy Halloween, Virgil," Patton muttered, hopefully. Virgil couldn't hide the smile that took up his face, reaching out and ruffling Patton's hair.

"Happy Halloween, Patton."


End file.
